HONORED ON PANEL 17E, LINE 27 OF THE WALL
JOHN JOSEPH BRYAR
WALL NAME
JOHN J BRYAR
PANEL / LINE
17E/27
DATE OF BIRTH
CASUALTY PROVINCE
DATE OF CASUALTY
HOME OF RECORD
COUNTY OF RECORD
STATE
BRANCH OF SERVICE
RANK
REMEMBRANCES
LEFT FOR JOHN JOSEPH BRYAR
POSTED ON 6.29.2021
POSTED BY: john fabris
honoring you....
Thank you for your service to our country so long ago sir. The remembrance from your nephew Rich Bryar is especially touching. As long as you are remembered you will always be with us...
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POSTED ON 2.17.2018
POSTED BY: Patricia (Stevens) Powell
Jackie was my neighbor
I remember Jackie as a kind, nice person. I lived on the next block & spent much time at his house with his sister Mary Beth.
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POSTED ON 2.4.2018
POSTED BY: Dennis Wriston
I'm proud of our Vietnam Veterans
Lance Corporal John Joseph Bryar, Served with Company D, 1st Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment, 3rd Marine Division, Third Marine Amphibious Force.
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POSTED ON 8.3.2017
POSTED BY: Lucy Conte Micik
Thank You
Dear LCPL John Bryar,
Thank you for your service as a Rifleman. Semper fi. It is important for us all to acknowledge the sacrifices of those like you who answered our nation's call. Please watch over America, it stills needs your courage and faithfulness. Rest in peace with the angels.
Thank you for your service as a Rifleman. Semper fi. It is important for us all to acknowledge the sacrifices of those like you who answered our nation's call. Please watch over America, it stills needs your courage and faithfulness. Rest in peace with the angels.
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POSTED ON 9.30.2015
POSTED BY: Rich Bryar, Major, U.S. Army (ret)
Thru the eyes of a 6 year old boy......
Volume 1 of 3: Sacrifice, Purpose, Pride
In honor of Veterans Day, I felt compelled to share with all my friends the excerpts of a speech I have given only twice in my lifetime. It is the story of three little six-year olds, as they are inspired by events around them:
“It was a chilly Spring day on the south side of Chicago. The breeze was crisp in March of 1967, as a young 6-year old boy waited patiently, along with his two brothers, for his Dad to return home from his route as a bus driver for the Chicago Transit Authority. The routine was simple. Dad would return home, mail in hand, and then sit quietly as he watched the evening news.
Dinner was ready, and as his Mom placed the food on the kitchen table, all were seated to enjoy family time together. The phone was hanging on the wall next to the doorway, leading to the living room, which also doubled as the young boy’s parents’ bedroom, thanks to a foldout sleeper sofa. Dad never liked that phone to ring during dinner time: it was a special time he liked to enjoy with family. So when the phone did ring that evening, it was his Mom who quietly rose from the table to take on the task of finding out who had interrupted family time.
The young boy watched as his Mom politely answered the phone. She stood silent as she listened to the caller on the other end of the line. After a brief moment, she simply looked at her husband, and held out the phone to the young boy’s Dad. Knowing the call must be for him, he rose up from the table, and took control of the phone. He raised it to his ear, and politely introduced himself.
He listened quietly to the caller, for what seemed an eternity…..uncommon for a man who loved to talk and was always engaged with friends and family.
The young 6-year old watched intently. His Dad slowly hung up the phone without another word. He walked calmly through the doorway leading to the next room. He sat down in a chair, put his face in his hands, and began to cry.
The 6-year old boy was stunned.
I remember that story very well, because it was the first time I had ever seen my Father cry. And it was that night, that my Dad’s youngest brother, my Uncle Jack, Marine Lance Corporal John Joseph Bryar, at the age of 22, gave his life in the service of his Country, in the Republic of South Vietnam.
That night, that 6-year old learned the true meaning of the word: ‘Sacrifice’.”
It became my calling and my inspiration. Respectfully submitted, with honor, in memory of that brave United States Marine, and many others like him.
In honor of Veterans Day, I felt compelled to share with all my friends the excerpts of a speech I have given only twice in my lifetime. It is the story of three little six-year olds, as they are inspired by events around them:
“It was a chilly Spring day on the south side of Chicago. The breeze was crisp in March of 1967, as a young 6-year old boy waited patiently, along with his two brothers, for his Dad to return home from his route as a bus driver for the Chicago Transit Authority. The routine was simple. Dad would return home, mail in hand, and then sit quietly as he watched the evening news.
Dinner was ready, and as his Mom placed the food on the kitchen table, all were seated to enjoy family time together. The phone was hanging on the wall next to the doorway, leading to the living room, which also doubled as the young boy’s parents’ bedroom, thanks to a foldout sleeper sofa. Dad never liked that phone to ring during dinner time: it was a special time he liked to enjoy with family. So when the phone did ring that evening, it was his Mom who quietly rose from the table to take on the task of finding out who had interrupted family time.
The young boy watched as his Mom politely answered the phone. She stood silent as she listened to the caller on the other end of the line. After a brief moment, she simply looked at her husband, and held out the phone to the young boy’s Dad. Knowing the call must be for him, he rose up from the table, and took control of the phone. He raised it to his ear, and politely introduced himself.
He listened quietly to the caller, for what seemed an eternity…..uncommon for a man who loved to talk and was always engaged with friends and family.
The young 6-year old watched intently. His Dad slowly hung up the phone without another word. He walked calmly through the doorway leading to the next room. He sat down in a chair, put his face in his hands, and began to cry.
The 6-year old boy was stunned.
I remember that story very well, because it was the first time I had ever seen my Father cry. And it was that night, that my Dad’s youngest brother, my Uncle Jack, Marine Lance Corporal John Joseph Bryar, at the age of 22, gave his life in the service of his Country, in the Republic of South Vietnam.
That night, that 6-year old learned the true meaning of the word: ‘Sacrifice’.”
It became my calling and my inspiration. Respectfully submitted, with honor, in memory of that brave United States Marine, and many others like him.
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read less